Disclaimer: I have created the entire student body that is currently attending Hogwarts, but the school, teachers, and world around my characters is just being borrowed from JKR. She created it, not me. You steal my characters, and I will hunt you down. You have been warned.
The train ride to Hogwarts was quiet after Zinny and I got into our robes. She was pretending to be upset with me because I’d nearly strangled her for dropping those Bertie Bott’s every flavor beans on the floor so I’d trip on them. She denied it, of course, but that was her way. There wasn’t another way for them to have appeared there, she’d had to have dropped them. So she wasn’t speaking to me. But that wouldn’t last “ it never did. By the time our sixth year officially started, she’d be talking again. As it was, she was already smiling at me from across the seat.
But the girl never did come back. I don’t know where she sat, because I didn’t see her go back up towards the front of the train. Perhaps the Trolley witch let her sit with her.
Not that it mattered, or that I cared. Well, I cared, of course, about if she was hurt or not. Other than that, I didn’t care.
When we arrived at Hogwarts, the school was covered in a thin mist that was slowly turning into a fog. Zinny and I popped into a thestral-drawn coach “ things I wasn’t sure even existed, even though I had paid extremely close attention during the Care of Magical Creatures lesson that pertained to them, because I couldn’t see them “ and rode up to the castle with Ridley Thomas and Clayton McAfee, two of my dorm-mates. Clay was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with me, and as far as I knew he’d had a fierce crush on Zinny for the past three years. Too bad Zinny doesn’t notice much beyond the end of her nose, because they’d make a cute couple.
I didn’t see that girl at all… not that I could in such heavy fog, but I found myself looking anyway. Peeves was making the most of the weather situation, for when we headed up the front steps to the castle, he began hurling water balloons at the students. Several of us ended up wet, including myself. Somehow, Peeves had enchanted a balloon to hit me in the back of the head. Professor Granger came out shouting, her usually bushy hair hanging limply from the moisture in the air. She was furious.
“Peeves! Stop it! It’s hard enough to get inside with this fog coming about, we don’t need you making things worse!”
Peeves heard her, and nodded in resignation. Professor Granger looked very pleased with herself, until Peeves began to float away, conveniently dropping his last three water balloons on her head. I had to cover my face and hurry inside after I saw the shocked look on Professor Granger’s face when she got soaked from head to toe.
Zinny was inside, waiting for me. When she saw me, she burst out laughing. “What’s your problem?” I demanded.
“Peeves got you good!” she sniggered, “How many was that? Three balloons, four?”
I frowned, “Just one, Zinny.”
She raised an eyebrow at me, “One? Uh, that’s got to be at least two. Your top half is drenched!”
She was right, I noticed. How much water was in that balloon? I wondered. “C’mon, let’s go watch the sorting. The sooner those first years are sorted, the sooner we can eat “ and I’m starved!”
Zinny rolled her eyes and followed me, “You and your stomach…”
*** *** ***
I found myself staring at the thestrals that were at the head of the coaches. Urgh, they were creepy looking… I guess I was so into it I didn’t hear the girl call me.
“Hey,” she shouted again for what must have been the eighth or ninth time “ yeah, I was that out of it “ and waved at me, “C’mon, get in!”
“What? Oh, thanks!” I climbed into the carriage and seated myself beside the girl. There was only a two others in with us, a couple of other girls who didn’t notice me at all.
“I’m Deanne Liles,” said the first girl, giving me her hand. “I’m a sixth year Ravenclaw. Are you new here?”
I gave her a small smile, “Nice to meet you, Deanne. I’m Owlery, I’m very new here.”
“First year?” she asked, politely.
I shook my head, “No, I’m a sixth year transfer student.”
Her eyes widened, “Really? That’s fascinating! We’ve never had a transfer student before. Exchange students, once, but never a transfer. Where are you from?”
I smiled at her. She was really nice, and pretty. She was taller than me, though that doesn’t say much because most people are taller than me, and had brown hair… you know, that really pretty brown hair that looks almost red? And she had hazel eyes, a color I envied. Oh, sure, having an unusual eye color, like purple, may sound like fun, but trust me, it’s not. Everyone looks at you twice, and then they get the stupid idea in their head that because of your eyes, you have some special magical ability… whatever. It never crosses their mind that you are ordinary and plain as they come, minus your strange eyes.
“The Salem Witches Institute in the United States,” I said, trying to sound as if I didn’t miss the place. Because I didn’t. Really. Well, a little.
Deanne widened her eyes, “Wow, really? That’s awesome!”
“Excuse me,” said a snotty voice from the other side of the coach, “But the Salem Witches Institute is for older witches, a kind of social club. It isn’t a school for witches in training.”
I sighed and blinked at Deanne before turning to see whoever had addressed me so rudely. It was a girl who was just a few inches shorter than Deanne, with blonde hair, like me. Well, not really like me, because my hair is more of a dark blonde, more of a golden color. This girl had beach blonde hair … the American Muggle Marilyn Monroe would be envious. Her hair hung in tight ringlets around head, framing her face and her gray eyes. Ha-ha, mine were prettier.
“Oh,” Deanne said, a little timidly, “Owlery, this is Bailey Brocklehurst. She’s a Ravenclaw prefect, in my year.”
I smiled, “Nice to meet you Bailey. I-”
“What kind of name is Owlery?” she asked me, before I could make a snide comment on her hair. I swallowed the comment, for she was asking for a nastier one. “I mean, that’s where the Owls live. It would be like saying your name was Birdcage.”
Oh yeah, she was asking for a way nastier one. “Back to your first question, not that it was a question per se, because you tried to state it as if you knew everything… I’ll just pretend it was a question. About the Institute, you’re right about it being for older witches. But they began, about ten years ago, a tutorial program, which I was apart of. So, that’s where I received my schooling for the last six years. Then, about my name, it’s actually Marti Owlsten, but my brother’s name was Avery. I called him Aviary, and after awhile he began to call me Owlery. It’s stuck ever since.”
“But Marty?” she sneered, “That’s a boy name, isn’t it?”
I scowled at her. “How old are you, five? No. Marti, short for Martina, short for Martina Bethany Owlsten. Deal with it,” I glanced out the window to see that we were almost to the castle, “And I like your hair. I can’t wait to see what other wigs you wear.”
“What?!” she shrieked, jumping to her feet, “You will have respect for a Hogwarts prefect! Five points from whatever house you get sorted into, as soon as you are sorted into it!”
“Then I hope I’m in yours, Broccoli-purse.”
“That is Brocklehurst, you little…”
“Look,” Deanne said, brightly, taking a hold of my arm, “We’re here! Let’s go, Marti… I’ll show you around, alright?” she practically yanked me out the door. The coach wasn’t even stopped, which was quite dangerous, when we dashed out and up the steps to… where ever it was she was taking me. We stopped just inside the doors, when she hit the brakes.
“Marti,” she said with a concerned look on her face, “You got to be careful when it comes to Bailey. She’s a prefect.”
“I’m not afraid of her.” Well, those ringlets did make me think of evil clowns…
“That’s not it,” Deanne said, barely letting me finish, “I’m serious about this. She’s in Ravenclaw for a reason. Ravenclaws are clever… and she totally lives up to it. She’s in charge, well sort of, so you need to give her respect. Even though she can be a stick in the mud.”
I sighed, “First of all, Deanne, I know all that. Second, she brought on those insults herself. Thirdly, it’s not that she’s a stick in the mud, it’s that she’s got one stuck up where the sun don’t shine!”
A splash from outside caught my attention. I paused and glanced out side. In the air there was a ghost… no, I realized it had to be a poltergeist, because he was throwing water balloons at the students exiting the coaches. Ghosts can’t hold anything physical.
Alright, I don’t know why I did it. I guess I thought about the beans in my bra, but there I saw that boy, Andran, step out of a coach right as the poltergeist dropped a balloon. I drew my wand and levitated that balloon, plus two more that the poltergeist had in his arms, and zoomed them around behind Andran. I lined them up straight, then sent them into the back of his head. He stumbled and Deanne burst into laughter. I smiled triumphantly.
A look of fear passed over Deanne’s face and she pulled me closer to her. “Put your wand away!” she hissed.
I did so without question. After all, it was very unwise to keep your weapon of choice in view right after a prank was pulled. Footsteps came up behind us, and I knew why Deanne had told me to hide my wand. It was a Professor.
“Good evening, Miss Liles,” the Witch said, “It’s Peeves, isn’t it?”
Deanne nodded, “Water balloons, Professor.”
“Curse him,” the Professor said, drawing her own wand and going into the fog, shouting. Deanne and I stepped aside while the other students filed past us, a soaking wet Andran included. After a while, the professor, soaked to the bone, reentered the doorway and looked my way. “You would be Martina Owlsten?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said politely. I could be civil to someone in a position of authority. “That would be me.”
She smiled warmly at me, wiping her face with a handkerchief. “I’m Professor Granger. Miss Liles, please follow the rest of your classmates into the Great Hall. Miss Owlsten, please follow me.”
*** *** ***
I dripped my way to a place to sit at the Gryffindor Table. Zinny, Ridley, Clay, and I all flopped into our seats, waiting for the sorting to begin.
“I wonder how many first years we’ll have this year,” Ridley said aloud.
Zinny looked at him, “Don’t we have the same number every year? That’s what I thought…”
Ridley shook his head, “No. There’s always a different number. Sometimes more, sometimes less… last year we only had about thirty or so.”
Clay cleared his throat, “Well, if you ask me,”
“Which we didn’t,” Zinny quipped sarcastically.
“I’d say,” he continued with a pained glance in Zinny’s direction (that she didn’t notice at all) “That we have more this year, since the train was so crowded. That’s always a good indication to how many new students.”
“Yeah…” I muttered. Truthfully, I wasn’t really listening to their conversation. I was looking through the swarm of first years that were shuffling into the great hall, searching for one with bushy hair…
Alright, I have no idea what was wrong with me. But I was still looking.
And I didn’t see her at all.
Professor Weasley brought in the sorting hat and stool “ something that seemed odd because usually Professor Granger brought it in “ and started the sorting. The old frayed hat began its song. I was too busy looking around the Great Hall to notice what it really was saying.
I finally settled into watching the first years get sorted. Zinny is really big on making the new first years feel welcome, so we watch and clap when one is sorted into Gryffindor, and she makes it a big point to learn their names. I couldn’t believe she didn’t make prefect, she acts so much like one.
When the last first year was sorted, the doors to the Great Hall opened again. Everyone, several teachers included, looked very surprised to see Professor Granger leading a short girl with very curly hair into the hall. Even more noticeable was the fact that the girl didn’t have any house badge on her robes. The hall broke out into whispers.
When they reached the sorting Hat and stool, Professor Granger cleared her throat and silenced everyone. Professor Weasley handed Professor Granger the sorting hat, then seated himself with the other teachers. I guess I half expected Professor Granger to give a speech, but instead, she nodded to Headmistress McGonagall, who stood and cleared her throat.
“I would like to welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts,” she said primly. “But, as I am sure you can all see, our Sorting Ceremony has not been completed.” She motioned to the girl with one hand. “This year, we have a new student. This is Martina Owlsten, a sixth year student from the Salem Witches Institute in Salem, Massachusetts, U.S.A.”
Whispers broke out again all over the hall, until the Headmistress raised her hands for silence. I was too stunned to even whisper. She was American? How had I missed that?
“Now,” McGonagall continued, “Let Miss Owlsten be sorted.”
Professor Granger motioned for Martina, who looked nearly petrified, to sit on the stool. She did so, a little shakily. The Sorting Hat was placed on her head, then sat there… and sat there… and sat there… It seemed to sit there for quite some time, much longer than any sorting I’d ever seen, and made everyone in the Hall jump when it finally shouted, “RAVENCLAW!”
Loud cheers erupted from the Ravenclaw table, especially from Deanne Liles. She was on her feet, clapping and cheering as though they had won the house cup. McGonagall clapped her hands, and the feast appeared before the girl even sat down.
Well, at least she wasn’t in Slytherin.
Then Zinny gave a shout to me, but I was too busy not paying attention to notice what was headed right at me…
*** *** ***
I felt my face go really red when that hat, they called it the Sorting Hat, was put on my head. I noticed my hands were trembling. I mean, the hat covered most of my face, and I couldn’t see everyone while they could see me. What if something happened that I couldn’t see, like snot running down my face and chin? Well, okay, that I might notice, but still.
And I didn’t know what to expect. I wished that Professor Granger would have told me something about the sorting. All she said was that we had to wait until all the first year had been sorted. Heck, I didn’t even know all the house names! Ravenclaw, Deanne was in that house, and then there was the Griffin one, and Puff-n-stuff, and I couldn’t remember the last one… or was there a fifth? Shoot, I couldn’t remember.
“There’s not reason to be frightened, Miss Owlsten,” said a small voice in my ear. Or had it been my head?
“No, you didn’t imagine me. I am the Sorting Hat, and I am just pondering you mind, and where to put you.”
I swallowed. It felt rude to not say anything, but I didn’t know what to say to the Sorting Hat. Um, nice to meet you, Sorting Hat. How many houses are there again?
“Nice to meet you, too,” it replied, “And there are four houses, not five. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin.”
Oh. Is there a difference between them? And which is the best?
“Oh, yes, there are great differences between the four houses. Didn’t you hear my song?”
Song? I don’t think so…I wasn’t in the Hall when the new students were sorted. I was outside, then they brought me in and put me on the stool and you on my head. That’s all I know.
“Well, Gryffindor is very brave, named for Godric Gryffindor. Hufflepuff is hard working, named for Helga Hufflepuff. Then there is Ravenclaw, the clever house, named for Rowena Ravenclaw. Now, lastly, there is cunning and power hungry Slytherin, named for Salazar Slytherin. I would go into greater detail, but you are hungry and still need to be sorted.
“Lets see. You have a lot of bravery…”
So, Gryffindor?
“Well, you also are a hard worker, when you want to be…”
Okay, Puff-n-stuff, then?
“Hufflepuff, dear. But, you see, you are also quite sly, so I don’t think you’re right for Hufflepuff.”
Then do I go to the snake one?
“Will you let me finish?”
Sorry. Go ahead. I’ll shut up.
“Alright, now then… Slytherin would suite your sly side, but you have a good strong conscience, and you don’t care much for glory… Hmm… you are a clever one, Very clever, at that… and creative. I would say that you are far more clever than sly, and when you do work your hardest, it is for your own creative purposes… I think you might belong in Ravenclaw.”
I smiled under the hat. Really? Ravenclaw?
“Do you object?”
Not at all! I already have a friend there: Deanne! And I get the last laugh for an argument I had with some twit of a girl who’s also there! Ha ha, take that, Bailey Broccoli-purse!
There was a chuckle, “Well, it was a pleasure speaking with you, Martina Owlsten. You are sorted into RAVENCLAW!”
I jumped, for that last was shouted across the entire Hall. Professor Granger pulled the Hat off my head, and I looked around. The Ravenclaw table was clapping and cheering like crazy, especially Deanne who was jumping up and down. Bailey seemed to be very unhappy, but that only made me smile. I tried to hide my glee as I walked toward where Deanne was sitting. Just as I was about to sit down, I heard the Headmistress announce that we were to now begin the feast “ a word that sounded very pleasant indeed “ and food appeared. I gave Deanne a huge smile, and Bailey an even larger one, then started to sit down.
Oh, man, I don’t know what happened. I think a shoelace came undone, and I stepped on it with my other shoe, but I don’t really know. All I know is that I tripped on something and fell forward onto the Ravenclaw table. I threw my hands out to break my fall, and they hit a pan of something… and the pan went flying, up over my head and across the Hall, right towards the Gryffindor table.
I winced as screams went out across the Great Hall, teachers jumped to their feet, and all the Gryffindors scattered… except one Gryffindor.
Andran looked up just as then pan of what I could now see was Shepherd’s Pie hit him dead in the face. Heck, I couldn’t have thrown it that straight and hit him dead on.
Now, all things considered, this wasn’t too bad. Yes, I’d managed to make a fool of myself in front of the entire school, and had inadvertently hit a fellow student with a pie in the face, but really, I’d seen worse. I could recover from something like this, even laugh at it, but then something went horribly wrong. Somebody, I don’t know who, gave a shout of the two worst words that could possible have been shouted at that moment.
“FOOD FIGHT!”
“Oh, no!” I shouted, pulling myself to my feet, “No! Don’t do that! Stop please-” I was cut short by a chicken wing hitting me on the left side of my head. I hardly had to blink before food was flying this way and that through the air.
I sputtered, “That was SO uncalled for, really-” a wave of gravy slopped across the right side of my face.
“Stop acting like children!” I hollered, but mid-way through the word ‘children’, a wad of Shepherd’s Pie hit me in the face. I clenched my fists and looked across in the direction it had come from.
There was Andran Audierus, on his feet, glowering at me. His wand was drawn and he had potatoes and beef all over his head. Really, I would have laughed, but he had the scariest look on his face. And his wand was drawn, pointed right at me. I gulped.
“You did this!” he shouted over the din.
“I did not!” I shouted back. “The pie was an accident!”
He scoffed, “Am I honestly supposed to believe that? You hit me dead on!”
“That WAS an accident, you idiot! I wasn’t the one who started the food fight!”
“I don’t believe you for a second! You started this, and I know it!”
I started to shriek something back about his new hairdo affecting his brain, but an apple popped me on the head, making me stumble somewhat. Then I was angry… really angry. I reached out and picked up dish of some British food I didn’t recognize and hurled it at Andran as hard as I could.
Unfortunately, at that exact moment, the Headmistress shouted a spell, and everything froze. I couldn’t move a muscle, except my eyes, and what I saw horrified me. First of all, most all the teachers had their wands drawn and looked absolutely enraged. Secondly, the dish I’d thrown was still in the air, mere inches from my hand, and you could SO tell I was the one who threw it. Then, finally, most all the other students were hidden under the tables in the Great Hall, and while I wasn’t the only one above, I was currently the only one who looked to be throwing something… and all the angry teachers were looking at me.
Crap.
Hmm... who really started the food fight? Will Marti stay at Hogwarts? Will the entire student body be punished for the food fight, or will they just blame Marti? Next chapter will tell all... as soon as I can get around to writing it. Read and Review! Thanks!